


Bring Back What Once Was Mine

by smile667



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Yondu, Bottom Yondu Udonta, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kragdu Big Bang, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Memory Loss, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Power Bottom Yondu Udonta, Pre-Canon, Pre-Guardians of the Galaxy (2014), Prison, Prison Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Temporary Amnesia, Top Kraglin, Top Kraglin Obfonteri, Violence, dom yondu, kraglin doesn't remember anything, let me know if i should add anything, power bottom yondu, sub Kraglin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:47:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12984393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smile667/pseuds/smile667
Summary: Kraglin wakes up in a crashed spaceship on a tiny planet, looking 20 years older than he remembers being, with a lot more scars, knives, about 10 extra inches of height, not to mention the sudden ability to read, shoot straight and curse in languages his translator doesn't even recognise. He gets himself to a town and finds two things - a doctor with a diagnosis (amnesia due to head trauma, memories should come back on their own) and trouble (idiots who can't rob a bank without messing everything up). Taking care of the latter leads to a job offer from the local law enforcement, one he accepts. When he's out celebrating his transition from a punk-ass street kid to society's best and brightest, he almost gets in trouble again, this time curtesy of three Ravagers, one of whom makes all kinds of things happen to his head and body. The Ravagers leave him alone soon enough, but then three days later, they show up again. At his job. As prisoners. And he just can't get them to leave him alone. Especially the blue one.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Write-like-an-American's "Stupid Questions". It's an awesome fic (all of their fics are) so check it out if you haven't yet!
> 
> Most of the fic happens in a prison with all the accompanying violence, so please be careful if you think you might find it triggering. Same thing for violence (also sexual) against children, they'll want to hurt 14-year-old Peter a few times during this story.
> 
> The title is from Healing Incantation song from Tangled (yes, I have a baby sister)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Kraglin wakes up to a few nasty, and weird, surprises

Kraglin wakes up to pitch black darkness. He's lying on a hard metal surface and there is something sharp digging into his leg. His head is pounding. In fact, every single part of his body hurts in some way. This becomes even more true when he puts his hands under his chest and tries to push himself up. His vision goes blurry, even before his arms give out and he hits the floor.

It takes several minutes for the pain to ebb. When it does, Kraglin tries to sit up again and this time, succeeds. The motion must trigger some sort of detector because he is only semi-vertical before something whirrs and the lights come on. Kraglin blinks a few times, just to make sure he still has corneas, and looks around. He's in a spaceship. A very small one, but definitely jump-capable. Well, it probably isn't jump-capable anymore, not with that hole in the starboard wall. And Kraglin is pretty sure the tree that's currently part of the cabin wasn't in the original design. Or if it was, Kraglin got himself the weirdest fucking ship in the universe.

He shakes his head and tries to get up. The pounding in his head increases, but it's bearable. Well, it doesn't make him pass out or his legs give out, even if it feels like some sadistic maniac keeps stabbing him with a plasma blade. He touches the back of his head, where the pain is the worst, and his hand and sleeve come back blue with his blood. Shit. He looks around for something to wrap his head with or painkillers, he would be satisfied with anything resembling a medicine to be honest, but there is nothing. He doesn't even have to look very hard, it seems none of the storage spaces managed to hold through the crash. Or if they had they have, they've been buried under twisted metal in the middle of the cabin, where the top collapsed, forming a barricade to the other side. Which contains all the flying equipment, Kraglin suspects, and curses. He doesn't really feel like climbing through that.

There is a smaller pile of various pieces of his poor ship on the other side and Kraglin decides to brave that one first. It's not even that bad, his head attacks him only once and all of his limbs stay strong throughout. He almost collides with the outer wall of the hull, not realizing how close the barrier is to the exit. There are a lot of holes in the hull, a lot more than it's good for anything, especially something that should be airtight.

One of the holes at least was meant to be there since it comes with a door. Kraglin struggles out of the ship through the broken entrance, somehow managing not to injure himself any further. The outside is unfamiliar to the point of being just plain weird. It's all green and organic, no man-made substance in sight, except for the ship behind him.

He walks around the ship to check the front, if the windshield is intact, it might be worth trying to fix the controls and fly to town. Stars know what they have flying around on this planet, after all, he doesn't want to chance meeting it face-to-beak/snout/muzzle. He trips four times over roots and pieces of the ship's outer shell, before even making it to the front and he freezes as soon as gets there. The plexiglass is fine. Kraglin's reflection, however, is not. He touches the glass, then bangs it hard, but the image doesn't change. It looks nothing like him, but it moves when Kraglin does and he's the only one around, so it's obviously his reflection. Even if it is about a couple of decades too old and has too many scars and Kraglin recognizes precisely none of the features. What the actual fuck.

He staggers back into the ship. He needs to take things one at a time. First, fix the ship, then worry about the sudden ageing. He climbs over part of the hull that collapsed inside, to get to the ship's tiny bridge. He manages to lose most of the skin on his arm as it falls into a space between two metal pieces and he has to extract it before the whole thing moves and crushes his arm for good, and when he gets through, he has to sit down for a while to let a whole new set of pains and aches settle down a little. It takes a moment, but he does need to be able to move so he sits and breathes slowly.

Most of the electronics seem fine, or at least, they're not damaged. Kraglin tries to turn on the engines and achieves only a weak sputter from somewhere behind him. Alright. Smaller steps then.

The screen comes alive when Kraglin turns to the Nav section, Xandarian writing appearing on a blue background. Kraglin looks at it blankly and then blinks when the letters make sense to him and he can read the warning of critical damage to the hull. He can read. He pushes a button at random, the screen changes, and he can still read it. What the fuck is happening? Is it possible to hit your head hard enough to just acquire a skill? He rather doubts it, or there would be a lot more people around the universe doing it to themselves.

He shakes his head, stops when it punishes him with an extra dose of pain and decides to put the sudden acquisition of an ability to read at the bottom of his priority list. It's hardly going to turn out to be a problem, after all.

Kraglin tries to pull up ship information, it's home port and registration, but the screen just blinks blue and remains the same. Damn. He hopes to find out something about what is going on. He turns on the scanner next and sets it to a wide range, its only requirement to find man-made objects or humanoid life forms. It takes barely a second for the machine to beep at him and spit out numbers and locators. He types in a visual command and the screen obediently shows him a map. His ship shows blue, friendly, and is surrounded by a whole sea of green, probably the jungle he's in now. Then there is a red blip in the corner of the screen and a box next to it informs Kraglin it is filled with people. A city then. Thank the stars there is one, Kraglin wouldn't like his chances if he was alone on the planet.

He stares at the map until he's sure he has it all stored in his mind and searches through the ship one last time. There's nothing there, however, no credits, no information, not even a first aid kit. Kraglin's not sure that's because he never bothered to stock his ship up properly or if he lost it all in the crush. Since most of the ship seems to be buried under other parts of the ship, it could be either.

He tries the engine, and, when he gets no reaction at all, he gets outside again. He doesn't bother to close the doors behind him, it's kind of pointless when there is a huge hole right next to them.

He pats the ship twice and starts walking.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Kraglin gets some help and some trouble

The city is closer than the scan said, but then the equipment wasn't exactly in perfect working condition. It only took Kraglin half an hour of walking to see the tallest buildings in the distance and another hour to reach the closest ones. At least, according to his communicator, which doesn't really work either. There aren't that many people on the streets and the ones that are, seem to avoid him. That's fine with him, he prefers to get his information from objective sources. In his district on Xandar, if you were stupid enough to let someone guide you anywhere, you deserved whatever you got. Which usually was a knife in your kidneys.

He finds the information hub quickly enough, it looks exactly the same as the Xandarian ones he's used to. He types in "doctor", thinks better of it, and chooses to search "free clinic" instead. Doctors are expensive, he has no money and all he needs is someone to patch him up. The computer spits out a dozen results, one of them close by. He prints out the information and goes back to the main screen. He might as well find somewhere he can get some money from, the clinic might be free, but it doesn't mean everything they offer is. The one he had to go to as a little kid, after getting beaten up by a group of gangbangers from his district, set all of his bones for free alright but demanded payments for the plastic cast-sleeves that kept his limbs immobile and the skele-gel fusing the bones back together. He ended up breaking his arm again, jumping from a window after robbing a place to pay them back.

Kraglin's in the middle of wondering how to phrase "I need money, but I have nothing to use as collateral or any money to put in first" so that the search engine understands when the top of the screen flashes blue with a news announcement. Something about a thing called Zehoberei getting destroyed by the Mad Titan Thanos. Kraglin isn't really paying attention because the information comes with a time stamp and it makes no fucking sense. For one, this planet seems to be using some weird hour system, because it says it's already after hour 15 and according to Kraglin's busted communicator it's barely midday. But the more important thing is that it's almost two decades later than Kraglin remembers being. Now, he blacked out for a week or so before, once he missed a whole month while hiding from a pissed of loan shark, but 17 years is a little too much to just not notice passing. He really needs that doctor, stat.

He abandons his quest for money, gathers up the clinic's information and leaves the hub. The printed out flimsy has a nice, clear map as well as an almost full page of description of services and things they've done for the community. It sounds a bit like the speech the head teacher made to sponsors every year in the orphanage Kraglin was when he was a squirt, all about helping everyone and how it is the most important thing for them that everyone receives equal care and attention. He stops reading after sentence number seven, deciding it's a waste of his new found reading ability, putting that shit in his head. 

He manages to reach his destination without an incident. The clinic building looks surprisingly clean and decent for the amount of pro-bono the information said they did. Kraglin scans the building for evidence of break-ins, the tell-tale sign of a hospital for the poor - a place they can easily access to look around first and then come back to rob and steal drugs from. He doesn't find any, which makes him doubt the whole "everyone deserves help and care" spiel, there's no way a place that caters to addicts and criminals would never be broken into. Well, none of his business. As long as they take him in and don't pile up extra charges on him, what does he care if they're lying in their public reports and information? Kraglin waves a hand to activate the door, scans the front room for possible trouble, wastes half a second to wonder why the hell is that his first instinct, and walks in.

"Can I help you?" a pretty and very clean, yellow girl asks from behind the counter.

"Umm, yeah," Kraglin answers, brushing off his clothes self-consciously. "I had a bit of an accident and...."

He turns around and shows her the wound on his head he hopes is visible through his hair. Or what he has of it. It must be, because there is a gasp, a buzzer sound, and the girl is suddenly by his side, shepherding him into a doctor's office. "Please, just sit down and relax, the doctor is on his way."

Kraglin does as he's told, looking around. It's a nice office, all clean and sterile, although an unlocked cupboard full of vials, puts another check in "not a lot of poor come here" column. He barely has time to settle down on the cot when the doors open and a green humanoid swaggers in, a tablet clutched in one of his four arms. He's followed by a pink Xandarian-looking female, who smiles at Kraglin and hustles towards him with a tablet of her own.

"Could you tell me your name, sir?"

"Kraglin Obfonteri," Kraglin says.

"And your race?"

"Xandarian."

She taps up the information, while the doctor puts some protectors on his body and all four hands and comes closer as well. He leaves talking to the nurse, who asks another question, something about Kraglin's medical history and allergies, and puts a gentle hand on Kraglin's head. Even though Kraglin can barely feel the touch, his head still lets him know of it by the pain spiking up significantly. He informs the doctor of it with a single, quite accurately chosen word, and the touch disappears, only to appear again at his neck. There's a click, a feeling of pressure and two seconds later, a blessed numbness spills around every bit of Kraglin's body. The doctor continues to work on his head, at least he hasn't moved from behind Kraglin, and the nurse keeps talking and asking questions. Finally, the doctor comes back into view, a small machine clutched in two of his hands. He puts it up to Kraglin's forehead, something whirls and the nurse hands her tablet over to the doctor, before smiling again and leaving. Only then does he address Kraglin. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

Kraglin nods and pulls up his sleeve, showing off the skinned forearm. He also lists out all of the aches and pains that have been showing up since he woke up. He ends with the fact that he seemed to have lost 17 years somewhere.

When the doctor says "amnesia", Kraglin almost shoots him. He figured that out himself, thank you very much. He might be a street kid - might have been a street kid, he doesn't think he qualifies anymore, hasn't for awhile, even if he doesn't remember the years passing - but he's not a complete moron.

"Thank you," he still goes for politeness, the man is seeing him for free after all. "How do we fix it?"

"We don't," the doctor replies, not even looking up from the chart he is still reading. "I will give you some painkillers for the contusions and the headache, and the stitches in your head can come out in a few days, but the memories will have to come back on their own. You shouldn't force it either, Mr. Obfonteri."

"Force it? How would I force it?"

The doctor glares up at him and Kraglin tries to look as innocent as possible. Which, he decides, based on the doctor's expression, isn't very effective with his new face. "Just so I know what to avoid," Kraglin specifies.

The doctor doesn't believe him, but he can't really refuse to answer when Kraglin puts it that way. "If you remember something, try not to focus on it too much to force other memories out. Don't look up triggers on your own. It is very important, Mr. Obfonteri if you go about this the wrong way you might cause yourself very serious psychological damage."

Kraglin nods and smiles his agreement, meaning absolutely none of it. The doctor doesn't look terribly convinced. But he still gives Kraglin some pills and an extra set of gauze and bandages for his head, even walks him to the door. "Please remember to come right back if your headaches don't disappear or if you feel nauseous."

"Yes, sir," Kraglin replies, this time truthfully. No reason to tough anything out if he can get seen to for free.

He nods a goodbye to the doctor and receptionist and walks out.

He picks a direction at random and starts walking. The painkiller is still working, his head is patched up and there is a chance he's going to get his memories back. Life seems as good as it's going to get. Kraglin sighs. None of it matters if he can't get some money soon anyway and get a place to sleep, the ship's too busted for heating to work and the planet is obviously not one of those tropical paradises. In fact, he is already cold and it's not even dark yet.

He so lost inside his own head, with all of his thoughts and worries, he doesn't notice the crowd gathered on the street until he bumps into what feels like half a million people within two steps and almost land face first in the mud. He looks up to find himself surrounded by people, all looking in one direction and many gasping and exchanging terrified whispers with their neighbours. And in the center, in a middle of a wide free space, there are six men, all of them armed. They're huge, the smallest one at least three times Kraglin width, muscled and angry. They also have a hostage, someone so small they are completely hidden by the middle man's giant arm.

Kraglin scans them critically, noticing badly taken care of blasters and the broken window of a credit-loan company behind them. The idiots tried to rob a place by breaking a window? No wonder they had to grab a hostage on crowded streets, if they can't even do a job a 10-year-old, dumb kid could manage just fine, Kraglin thinks and frowns at the weirdly specific comparison.

Then someone screams up front and the whole crowd surges. Kraglin elbows someone who gets too close, stretching his neck out to see if the idiots shot someone. They didn't, the one screaming seems to be related to the hostage. Or the loan shop, hard to say at that distance.

He watches for a few more minutes, but the robbers seem content just waving their guns around and staying where they are, like the morons they obviously are. He is just about to turn away, when one of the men pulls his hostage closer, making the terrified child visible for the first time. Kraglin pushes through the first line of the onlookers before he even realizes what he is doing, his knife already flying through the air and blaster clear of its holster. He shoots two of the men before they notice someone is attacking them, the knife taking care of the third. Three more shots and only the man holding the scared girl is left.

"You take one more step and I'll blow her head off," he screams at Kraglin. "Drop the gun!"

Kraglin does so without arguing, he's pretty sure he doesn't need a blaster to take care of a low-level scum who can't do a job without threatening a child. On the other hand, until just then, he was also quite certain he couldn't shoot worth a damn and five bodies on the ground say he can.

"Who the fuck are you?" the robber yells again.

"Kraglin," Kraglin replies. "Let the kid go, a-hole."

"What do you care? You her daddy?"

He isn't. He doesn't. Well, he shouldn't, but somehow.... Somehow it's important that the child escapes intact. Kraglin looks at her scrunched up pinkish face, blue eyes flowing with tears and ginger hair trapped in the robber's fist, and he almost collapses as his head explodes in pain. A thought appears for just a second, a very strong feeling of "get down, get down, bodies are gonna start falling soon", but disappears before Kraglin can chase it, expressly against the doctor's orders. He leans forward, the handle of his favourite knife sliding into his palm, as he waits for the dumb jackass to move away from the girl. Kraglin doesn't need a lot, just enough space between them to ensure he doesn't hit the wrong person. He's so focused on the man, he doesn't notice one of the fallen robbers reach for a blaster until he hears a sizzle of a charge being let free.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Kraglin gets a job and meets some Ravagers

Kraglin hits the ground before his head even processes what the sound is. The shot goes wide, the men are obviously blind as well as incompetent. He throws the prepared knife back at the idiot who just tried to kill him and pulls the second one from his boot as he jumps up to his feet. The moron with the hostage got distracted by his friend's attack and isn't fast enough to protect himself when Kraglin gets up and lets the knife fly. He barely looked long enough to aim, but the knife hits the exactly where he wanted it, sinking into the soft flesh of the man's groin.

The robber drops both the gun and the girl, who scrambles away from him, into the arms of the waiting crowd. The man is screaming, bend double on the ground and that is how the Corps find them.

They're very nice about the whole thing considering Kraglin killed two people and seriously wounded several others. The Corpsmen don't seem terribly concerned about the robbers, the one with Kraglin's knife in his bollocks is still screaming. His hostage thankfully stopped both screaming and crying, and her parents managed to stop her hugging Kraglin.

"What's your name?" one of the Corpsmen asks, interrupting Kraglin's thoughts.

Kraglin's not sure he should say, but the man seems friendly enough. "Kraglin Obfonteri."

"Mac Ashtut. Great thing you did here, Kraglin."

Kraglin shrugs. He's not really sure why he did what he did and he doesn't want any praise for it. The crying brat clinging to him was already too much.

"Wow, resourceful and modest," the guy laughs. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks. So can I go?" Kraglin asks, looking behind him hopefully.

"Sure, if you want," Ashtut offers. "But- We could always use a guy like you. So, you know. If you're ever looking for work...?"

The offer is so sudden and unexpected, Kraglin just stands in front of him, able only to blink like an idiot. Him? In the Corp? How would that even-? He can't do that. Can he?

"Just like that?"

"Sure," the man repeats. "Just talk to our captain," he says gesturing vaguely toward a group of Corpsmen. Kraglin has no idea why they have a captain when they have no ship, but can't get a word in edgewise. "We can't let a guy with skills like yours go to waste."

Kraglin is still reeling from being called skilful for the first time in his life, when Ashtut throws an arm around him and drags him away. 

* * *

There is apparently more to becoming a Corpsman in Astor-Beta than talking to their equivalent of a denarian. Including a criminal history check, which fills Kraglin with apprehension every time he thinks about it. He doesn't really know why, he might not be the most sterol example of a law-abiding citizen, but he's never done anything truly bad - or at least, he only ever got caught for the little things. And he needs money. Which is why the next day, he is sitting next to Ashtut's workstation.

"Let's see then," Ashtut says cheerfully, placing Kraglin's hand on the scanner. "Sure, you don't want to say anything before we do this?"

"I'm sorry if I killed someone?" Kraglin offers and the other man laughs. Kraglin joins him, but inside, he's more worried than ever. He might not understand why he feels this is going to end very badly for him, but so far his new, unexplained feeling haven't led him astray.

"Kraglin Obfonteri," the Corpsman reads. "Xandarian. We knew that already. No recorded address. No relatives. Knew that too. Oh, there we go," he leans forward to read something of the screen and Kraglin shuts his eyes tightly in anticipation. "No arrests. No criminal record at all, in fact."

"What? Really?" Kraglin asks, leaning over to read the writing too. That's strange. Even if he hasn't done anything in the years he doesn't remember, he has been arrested before that several times. "Nothing?"

"Why do you sound so surprised, were you expecting there to be something? I thought you didn't remember anything."

"I didn't. I don't," he ensures Ashtut. Nothing after he was 17, but he's been in jail before that. "I was just relieved."

"You should be. The job is as good as yours now." Ashtut grins. "Told you there'd be nothing. Most likely, this is the first you'd ever been here."

Here. That explains it. If their search doesn't extend to the Nova Empire, none of his checkered past would show up. The one he knew about and any he didn't.

"All you have to do now is fill this up," Ashtut continues, passing on a data pad with an open form. "Pass the reading test and the physical, and you're an officer in Astor-Beta Peace Force."

Even though he heard the name before, Kraglin still thinks it's a stupid thing to call the planet's Corps, but he doesn't say so. He taps in his information into the right spots, or at least as much of his information as he remembers or wants the people on Astor to know. He puts in his family as deceased, since they most likely are by now and Ashtut grins as he offers to be Kraglin's emergency contact. He fills in the details of the clinic as his personal doctor and the hotel he spent the night in, paid for by the family of the hostage-girl Kraglin saved, as his address. Then he remembers the physical part.

"Wait. Can I even pass that physical if I have amnesia? And stitches in my head?"

"I think so." Ashtut shrugs. "I mean it's not like amnesia impairs your shooting. And your head should be fine soon, right?"

"Right," Kraglin agrees.

The reading test is easy, if not very exciting. Kraglin has to read through four different reports, answer questions, then write up a report of his own. He passes with flying colors. The physical is equally quick, once the doctor is reassured that Kraglin's head wound is healing and he hasn't experienced any symptoms that might point to a deeper problem. Ashtut signs of on all forms, the captain asks Kraglin maybe two questions about his motivations - Kraglin decides to say that he wants to make Astor-Beta his home and contribute to the planet, rather than that he's completely broke - and Kraglin becomes a recruit of the Astor-Beta Peace Force. They really are desperate. 

* * *

The training they send him to is beyond useless. Kraglin would be offended they're making him take it if he didn't get pad for it. He and his fellow new recruits are taught shooting (which he's already good at, even if he can't remember why), hand-to-hand combat (which he might not excel at, but at least he always has more knives than the next man and that equals victory more often than not) and all sort of ship-related skills (which, again, he already has). The fact that he is so knowledgeable about the last one ranks pretty high on the things that have surprised him since waking up because he can't think of a reason why he would know how to operate every single section of a ship. Granted, he only remembers being on an active spaceship once, but if there was a clear division of labor on that piece of junk, it's everywhere else as well. And he's too good at all of it to be sent off for incompetence.

In fact, it appears he's very good, he gets top results of the group in almost everything. Sure, the rest of the recruits aren't what Kraglin would call intelligent, but it's still an achievement. He is even left in charge of some parts of the training. It feels good, being in command and relied on and Kraglin savors both. It also leads him to a discovery that he's actually skilled at being in command of idiots and making them do their work well because the average result of the group increases significantly after his shifts. Enough so, that two weeks later, they are all holding the notices of their next assignments. When Kraglin reads his, he almost laughs out loud. It seems he's going to jail. Again. 

* * *

They go to celebrate as soon as the captain pins the rank badges on their collars. His new friends get drunk surprisingly quickly. Or maybe, it's that Kraglin knows how to ration his drink rather than guzzle it down so he doesn't have to spend a fortune every time he's in a bar. He doesn't enjoy being the only sober one in a group though so he abandons them to sit alone at the counter.

Someone bumps into him and spills his drink, so Kraglin turns to the intruder, already reaching for a knife. He doesn't actually pull it out, partly because he remembers in time that he is now a member of law enforcement and partly because the man that is standing next to him makes his head go blank.

It's not because the guy is drop-dead gorgeous because he most definitely isn't. The ratio of scars to skin is much too high, the teeth bared in a grin might actually look worse than Kraglin's (and that takes some doing), the smell of him, leather, sweat and something burnt, is more than pungent and he's a bit on the other side of middle-age. He's some sort of Kree sub-race judging by the blue skin and a Ravager based on the dark red-brown coat with a flame patch in front. And somehow, the combination of all these features, none of which Kraglin remembers finding attractive in the past, makes his blood pleasantly warm and sends it to places it has no business going without Kraglin's approval.

"Takin' a break?" the man drawls, throwing his coat over some sort of holster on his hip. Kraglin tenses until he sees there is no gun in it, just an arrow-stick. As there is only one and the Ravager doesn't seem to have a bow or anything to launch the arrow with, Kraglin relaxes and turns to glaring, hoping he didn't look too moronic, just staring at the blue man.

"What's it to you?" Kraglin snarls, elbowing the intruder away. A loud gasp follows, making Kraglin realize for the first time that the Ravager isn't alone.

There are two people standing behind him, dressed in the same leather coats. Both look Xandarian, but only the older one looks anything like a Ravager (big, dirty and with tattoos on his face). The other one- Well, if Kraglin was still living on the streets and met him there, he would give him about a week to live. The kid is small, scrawny, weak-looking, with a mop of reddish hair and eyes too big for his face. He is the one who gasped before, although the older Ravager seems similarly surprised with Kraglin's response. Probably used to everyone being scared shitless of them.

The blue Ravager barely reacts. His eyes narrow a little and his grin goes from wide to a mere twist of the lips, but his poker face is obviously much better than his companions'. He looks Kraglin up and down slowly, head tipped to the side as if considering something. He must reach some sort of decision because the next second he moves his coat to cover the arrow and his smile widens again as he addresses Kraglin once more.

"No idea who we are, huh, boy?"

Kraglin bristles at being called boy when he has medical paperwork proving he is almost 40 years old, but for some reason, his tone is almost pleasant when he replies. "No. Why? Have we met?"

"Of co-" the kid starts to answer and then yelps when the blue guy smacks him. "What?"

He gets ignored as the man's focus never waivers from Kraglin. His fingers are tapping his hip, where his holster is hidden by the leather coat, in a way that puts Kraglin on his guard immediately.

"Don't try anything," he growls. "I'm in the Corps." Damn, no he isn't. Great way to look like a complete moron, getting the name of your own law-enforcement agency wrong. None of the Ravagers seems to notice though, so he trudges on. "You attack me, I'm gonna put you in the brig so fast you won't even know what hit you."

"You're a cop?!" the kid pipes up again and ducks before he can get slapped again. "Ha! Ow!"

The top Ravager smirks at him and turns back to Kraglin. "Corps, are ya?"

"Yes," Kraglin snarls, abandoning the rest of his drink and shouldering past the man. "So back off, a-hole."

He storms out into the night, none of the Ravagers making any move to stop him.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Yondu, Peter and Tullk discuss the situation and Yondu has a plan (well, part of a plan)

"Why did you stop me?" Peter says immediately after Kraglin disappears from their sight.

"We don't have to tell 'im right now, boy," Yondu snaps, his eyes fixed on the door. "Ya can't always just fire all yer guns in the first second." He looks around and then drags the other Ravagers to an empty table in the corner of the bar. "Sit."

They do. Peter manages to spend an entire minute in silence before piping up again. "So what are we going to do about Kraglin?"

"That's not important for now. What is important is that if he thinks he's in the Corp, we can be pretty damn sure he didn't do the job."

"How is that more important than Krags not remembering who we are?" Peter interrupts, the subsidies into an offended silence when he gets smacked by both Ravagers.

Yondu still answers the question. "Because the job results in money and it's time-sensitive. By the time we're done Kraglin will either remember everything, solving our problem, or he'll still be as stupid as he is now and we can deal with it then."

"What was his job?" asks Tullk.

"Simple pick up," the captain replies. He pulls out a datapad from his coat, turns it on and scans the specs. "Well, maybe not that simple."

"Why?" Peter questions, ducking his head under Yondu's arm so he can see the datapad as well. Yondu, never one to miss an opportunity, traps him under his armpit and keeps him there until Peter stops struggling. Once free, Peter scoots closer to Tullk glaring at Yondu, but gets elbowed away with a gruff "You had that coming, laddie."

"The merchandise is easy enough to pick up, it's just a box full of hard drives. But it's a box with top-secret government labels on top, which is locked up somewhere in a guarded building."

"That's not simple at all, cap'n," Tullk grumbles. "How are we going to do it?" 

* * *

They decide to send Quill in. Kraglin was supposed to get the merchandise through some old contact of a contact, but since they don't have the man's information, the only way in is through the vents. Yondu clips a camera-light to the kid's ear, warns him to keep the communicator line open and pushes him onto the street.

The boy does fairly well. He's in the vents in 5 minutes and turns on the light clip, activating the camera on it at the same time. "Ok, now what?"

Yondu guides him through, and soon enough Quill is dropping down into an office. There is a whole wall full of shelves, each stacked with safe boxes, and the kid groans, thinking he'll have to check them all.

"Only one of them has government markings, idiot," Yondu says and in reply, receives an embarrassed mumble, he doesn't really bother listening to.

The kid is back in the vents in another few minutes. The return journey takes longer as Quill has to push the box in front of himself as he crawls, but the kid still makes a good time. The video feed goes black, Yondu and Tullk can hear scraping and clattering, followed by a curse and then the kid's gulping breaths. "I'm out."

"Get over here then," Yondu says back, waits for a beat and then adds with more snap in his voice. "Don'tchu roll yer eyes at me, boy."

Quill yelps and Tullk grins at Yondu. The teenager is going to see it as Yondu's half-magic omnipotence, rather than highly predictable bratty actions, and will stay on his best behaviour for at least the next few days.

"There he is," the Ravager says and Yondu looks around the corner to see Quill hunching over the box, trying to hide it in his jacket, as two Astor-Beta Corpsmen walk past him.

Yondu frowns at the grey-uniformed men. Now that the job is almost done he's going to have to find a way to get Kraglin back to the ship. Preferably not very hurt or hostile, but he can deal with either if he has to. And he probably will, he thinks, as he recalls the way Kraglin just shouldered past him the day before. Then his face clears suddenly as he remembers the rank badge on Kraglin's collar. Now, he's never been to Astor-Beta before, but he has gotten arrested on other planets and on all of them, red, triangular badges meant just one thing - prison guards.

Yondu grins as a plan forms in his mind. Well, part of a plan. He can figure out the rest later. He steps out of the alley into full veiw of the street, takes a deep breath and yells at the kid. "Hurry up, boy! I coulda stolen it twice by now!"

The two Corpsmen turn, see Quill with the box and the markings on it, and reach for their blasters. The boy sees the guns and takes off in the direction of the Ravagers. Tullk puts his hand on his blaster and stares when his captain slaps it away. The Corpsmen reach them about two seconds after the kid does, screaming their heads off about dropping weapons and getting on your knees. Yondu's grin doesn't waiver one bit throughout the entire arrest. 

* * *

He doesn't get paid nearly enough for all this shit, Tullk decides sullenly as he follows his captain into the prison. But he does get paid enough it's kind of worth living for, so he doesn't complain. Quill, however, has no such qualms.

"Why did you do that, Yondu?" he's still whining, nudging the captain with his head since their hands are cuffed behind their backs. "It's all your fault we're here, so you can't complain I got us caught!"

"Did I say one word about it, boy?" the captain snarls back. "I know who did what, damn it."

Tullk wishes he didn't, because then at least he could be pretending it was all Quill's fault they got caught and not another one of the captain's weird, suicidal plans. Sure, Kraglin is the first mate and he works very well with the captain, but he's hardly irreplaceable. But then, Tullk doesn't think Quill is irreplaceable, or worth keeping for that matter, and judging by the last seven years, the captain disagrees on that as well. So here they are, being admitted to a prison because Yondu says he wants to find out what exactly is going on. It seems to Tullk that the captain just wants to mess around, but as he doubts the Centurion will take it well, he doesn't say that either.

But as they shuffle down the line to receive their prison equipment and Tullk sees Kraglin handing out parts of it, he is sorely tempted to.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Kraglin gets more acquainted with the new prisoners

Kraglin can hardly believe his eyes. The three Ravagers that have accosted him in the bar are here. In his prison. And the blue bastard leading them is grinning like an idiot, obviously having planned the whole thing. He doesn't even have the courtesy to pretend it's a coincidence. 

Kraglin leans down, pretending to reach for more sleeping mats, and scans his datapad for the Ravager's arrest records. But all they say is "theft" in big glowing letters and the men's names. Yondu Udonta. Peter Quill. Tullk. There are mug shots to go with the names, but no other criminal record. That puzzles Kraglin, he seriously doubts the older members of the trio managed to avoid getting at least suspected of something until he remembers that Astor-Beta only scans for criminal history on their own planet. Considering how much of Krraglin's past they managed to miss because of it, and that's only the half he remembers, stars only know what the records don't say about the Ravagers. 

"So are ya handing those out, or not?" a voice drawls from above and Kraglin jumps up guiltily, and then glares when he realizes the rebuke came from the blue Ravager - Udonta - and not his superior. 

"What are you doing here?" Kraglin hisses at Udonta, pushing a mat into his arms. 

"I'm a dangerous, criminal element so this is where I belong," Udonta smirks back. "And I have a stupid kid who can't steal for shit."

"Hey!" the littlest Ravager pipes up from behind. "That wasn't my fault! You're the one who yell- ow! Tullk!"

"Move, boyo," the tattooed Ravager, Tullk apparently, growls from behind. "Get yer stuff so we can set up."

The kid grumbles something under his breath, but does as he's told. Kraglin has a weird feeling that's sort of a rarity with that brat. 

"Where do you want us, officer?" Udonta asks, drawing out the last word like it's whole sperate sentence. Surprisingly, it's really hot, rather than annoying, but Kraglin shakes it off to wave vaguely at the upper levels, visible through the open main area. 

"There are free rooms upstairs if you wanna be alone." Most prisoners don't, which Kraglin really doesn't understand. Why would you want to sleep in a pile when you can have a bed of your own? 

Udonta just nods and walks off, throwing a last, quick grin Kraglin's way. Kraglin ignores him, turning back to his duties. His brain refuses to let go of Udonta though. He doesn't get it. Why the fuck are they here? They seemed to know him back in the bar, but none of them has mentioned anything since. Granted, all they had was this little exchange, but how long does it take to say "Hi, Kraglin, we've actually met before and you owe us money"? Or something similar. He honestly has no idea how he could have gotten involved with a bunch of Ravagers, unless it involved some sort of job and money and he can't imagine a situation in which they would remember him after, unless he screwed them in some way. But all three of them have been pretty goddamn cordial. No killing vibes whatsoever. 

"Well, well, what do we have here," a voice growls somewhere behind him and Kraglin turns to find the biggest motherfucker in the prison looming over Udonta. 

Udonta and his crew's reactions are so perfectly synchronized, it's like they planned it in advance. First, Udonta pushes the kid behind him and the tattooed one drags him away. Then, Udonta takes a step forward and moves so fast he almost blurs. There's a wet pop, a scream and the largest psychopath they have is lying on the floor, holding his leg and weeping. The Ravager stands over him, scanning the crowd surrounding him suspiciously. They all get out of his way as soon as he moves, his crewmen following close behind. 

"Umm... Shouldn't we do something?" Kraglin asks one of his colleagues, who just shrugs in response. "Right."

"Leave it, Obfonteri," another man says. "He was asking for it. And they always have a fight with new meat."

Kraglin isn't sure what the fact it happens often has to discipline, but he's new, not local and he doesn't need to stick out even more. Besides, it seems none of the other prisoners wants a repeat of the fight, because when Udonta takes a step towards the stairs leading up, the crowd separates easily, letting him and his crewmates through. The little one looks scared, hand fisted in Udonta's shirt, the other two seem more bored than anything else. They climb to the higher floors and disappear from sight.  

* * *

Their first morning in prison, Yondu wakes up with Quill's arms wrapped around his waist like a pair of particularly constrictive tentacles. He thinks about extracting himself gently, then decides it's late enough anyway and kicks the boy's shin. The embrace loosens immediately as Quill yelps and jerks up, managing to hit Tullk in the face on the way. He gets smacked for that, while Yondu laughs his ass off at both of them. 

The boy grumbles all the way to the main area, only shutting up when he starts shoving food in his mouth. Typical. 

"We should stay here," Quill says, spitting out bits of nutritional goop on the table. "This is better than anything Cook makes."

Tullk chuckles. "It won't taste as good after a few days, laddie. This is what we're going to be eating for every damn meal."

"Really?" the kid still sounds more excited, than heartbroken. Well, it will come. As someone who was fed just one sludge for the first twenty years of his life, Yondu can attest to the fact that you get sick of the food you have to eat non stop, pretty damn quick. Even if that food is the best thing that happens to you all day. 

"So what are we doing today?" Quill asks. 

"Yer staying in the room and not causing trouble," Yondu orders, ignoring both the glare and the complaining that follows. "I'm gonna find Kraglin and talk to 'im. Tullk can do whatever the fuck he wants."

"Thankee, cap'n," Tullk grins. "I'll keep an eye on the room so the boyo dinna get in trouble."

"Good," Yondu gives him a nod. "Dismissed." 

* * *

He finds Kraglin on one of the walkways leading to the watchtower. Prisoners aren't allowed to get anywhere near, so he leans against the wall close by and smiles. Kraglin notices him pretty quickly, he always has been super aware of his surroundings. To put it mildly - Yondu's usual word choice would be "fucking twitchy". Yondu lets the smile show just the right amount of teeth to get Kraglin interested, and by the way Kraglin's face turns blue he gets it just about perfectly. Stars, getting that boy interested in some nookie again is going to be easier than shooting fish in a barrel. Whatever fish are. 

Kraglin walks towards him and stops maybe two steps away. The fuck is with all of that distance? Yondu don't bite. Well, not unless Kraglin asks real nice. 

"What do you want?" Kraglin finally asks. 

"Me? Nothin'. I'm just standing here, minding my own business, officer."

Kraglin scowls. Yondu wants to grin, because the irritation on Kraglin face is about Yondu's favourite look on him, but the amusement disappears quickly when instead of a disgruntled "cap'n", Kraglin just spats out "fuck you, Udonta" and turns away. 

"Arright, arright, hold your thrusters, Krags," Yondu sighs. "I'm just interested, is all."

"Interested in what?" Kraglin frowns again. 

Yondu just looks at him. Was the boy always so obtuse? "In the unending expanse of the universe.  What do ya think?"

Kraglin colours again. "Why? Do we know each other?"

Yondu cocks his head and smiles again. "Maybe." 

The Xandarian is looking at him expectantly, but Yondu remains silent. Now that he's standing in front of the Corpsman-Kraglin without Tullk or Quill hovering behind, he's a bit worried. He just assumed Kraglin would remember him after they spent more time together, because his first mate has always done what Yondu wanted. But if he doesn't, Yondu thinks, they might not have much of a chance of convincing him of who he was. Not that many Xandarian street kids make it out of the slums and even fewer manage to become something more than a low-grade dockworker somewhere. Becoming a first mate on a Ravager ship by 25 is an achievement bordering on miraculous. 

So there and then, Yondu makes a decision. They need to let Kraglin remember on his own as much as possible. They can probably wait about a week. If that doesn't work, he'll just whistle until the idjit gets his memory back from sheer terror. There. And Kraglin used to say Yondu's plans were always crazy and half-baked. 

* * *

Kraglin is still thinking of his weird-ass conversation with Udonta, when he's back on patrol during the evening shift. Though he's not so sure it can even be called patrolling, when he's so wrapped up in his own thoughts, he can barely see what's in front of him. 

"Krags," someone hisses by his elbow, pulling on his sleeve. "Krags, I need your help."

He looks down to see Udonta's boy hanging on his jacket, big blue eyes staring up at him. Kraglin shakes him off annoyed and walks off, but the kid doesn't take the hint. Why the fuck he thinks Kraglin likes children or is going to protect him, Kraglin has no idea, but by how the boy runs after him and pulls on his jacket again, the notion is obviously firmly lodged in the little git's head. And what is it with those people calling him Krags? Kraglin might not be a social butterfly or anything, but he's had his share of friends and none of them ever called him that, why does a group of Ravagers do?

His sleeve gets pulled again. 

"What?" he snarls finally, although he might just as well hug the kid for all the impression he makes.

"Can you walk me back to my room? I was kinda told not to go anywhere and Yondu is going to be super mad at me, so you have to come with me, so that he sees I was safe and he gets distracted."

"Do I look like a fucking babysitter?" Kraglin asks, too stumped with the level of trust the boy has in him, or the fact he thinks Udonta will get distracted just by the sight of him, to put much heat into his voice.

"What's the big deal?" the kid whines, scrunching his nose up weirdly. Maybe he's having some kind of seizure. "You're doing rounds anyway, right? Just let me tag along!"

Kraglin is just about to snap another negative when something in the back of his mind shows him a snapshot of the kid in a middle of a tantrum and the image is terrifying enough for him to change tack. "Fine, kid. But don't talk to me."

Quill nods his quick agreement, but starts chattering just five steps later. Kraglin isn't exactly sure about what, because half the words the kid is saying make no fucking sense and the other half is just plain stupid. The boy keeps up his verbal diarrhoea the whole way, until he gets interrupted by a yelled "Quill". 

"Shit," he curses softly and grins up at the Centaurian striding towards them. "Hey, Yondu."

"Donchu hey me, boy," the blue man snaps, twisting the boy's ear. "I told ya to stay in the fucking room!"

"But it was boring! And I didn't go far! And I had Kraglin with me!"

Kraglin opens his mouth to very firmly deny that story, but closes it again when Udonta cocks his head at him and grins. He lets Quill go, pointing in the direction of the room. The kid runs. Udnota puts his hands on his hips and looks Kraglin up and down, swaying on his feet. "Helped m'boy, didya?"

"Uhh... I guess? I just walked him back."

Udonta's grin grows. He looks weirdly happy with Kraglin, which shouldn't feel as pleasant as it does, and there really isn't that much reason for it. He let the kid tag along for a little while, he didn't save him from a burning building. 

Udonta takes a step closer and pats his arm. "Good job, boy."

It really, really shouldn't feel so good to be condescendingly praised by a prisoner. He might need help. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Yondu and co. get visitors and Kraglin gets some advice

"Udonta, Tullk and Quill," one of the guards calls in the afternoon of their second day. "Come on, your lawyers are here." 

Tullk's eyebrows rise in question as he glances at his captain, but Yondu doesn't have any idea what they are talking about either. He doesn't even know any lawyers, he sure as fuck didn't get one when he wants to be in prison.

They get marched into a narrow room, with a small table along the longest wall, divided every two chairs by metal screens. The wall behind is covered by metal as well, probably hiding the window they're going to talk with their mysterious lawyers through. 

The guards push them all into the chairs and warn them not to touch the glass. Yondu wants to snarl something in response, but he's curious who came to visit so he restrains himself. The guards leave, the metal curtain hiding the visitors lifts and Yondu can feel his jaw drop. Next to him, Quill makes a half snort, half-choking sound and bends in half, wheezing. Tullk mutters a curse. Yondu can relate to both reactions. 

There are two men on the other side of the plexi-glass.They are tall, with long hair and dumb expressions on their mugs. That is where the familiarity to what Yondu remembers ends.

The blond man is clean shaven and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. The dark haired man kept his hair loose, but they're shiny and brushed. They have both been stuffed into white shirts with ties, that seem to be strangling them, and dress jackets. There is a stack of flimsies in front of them and blondie has a ring on his pinkie finger. All that's missing are spikey eyebrows and they could be the Broker's cousins. Maybe second cousins. Twice removed. 

Yondu just stares in silence until both Halfnut and Oblo start fidgeting. 

"What the fuck?" he asks finally, which prompts Quill into a new fit of laughter as he slides out of the chair and onto the floor. 

"We came to see you, Cap'n," Oblo says, straightening his papers.

"I got that. What the fuck was referring' to the way you two idjits look."

"There aren't many Ravager-lawyers, boss," Tullk replies for them. 

"Exactly," Halfnut confirms eagerly. "We had to dress up a bit."

Yondu nods, because he really doesn't want to know what kind of screwed up mental processes they had to go through to decide it was a good idea to dress up all fancy and go to prison for a visitation. He has more than enough crazy of his own, thank you very much. "Arright, what do ya want?"

They start talking over each other, making Yondu's translator buzz. He raises his arm to bang on the glass to shut them up, remembers in time that it will probably bring the guards in and hits the table instead. They go quiet and look at him expectantly. 

"One at a time," he growls. Then he amends himself as they both open their mouths again. "Oblo, you talk."

Oblo gives him a nervous look and obeys. He talks about how they're confused what their captain is doing in prison, how the fuck did Yondu Udonta got arrested by the Corps of a nowhere planet and why hasn't he gotten out yet. To give the Krylorian credit, he sounds concerned rather than mutinous, so it doesn't even make Yondu that angry. When Oblo goes quiet, he turns to Halfnut. "Anything to add?"

Halfnut shakes his head. "We just- We don't know what to do now, Cap'n..."

"What I told you," is the quick answer. "You should know this well enough by now, I don't do shit for no reason."

He scowls at them until he gets a muttered "yes, cap'n" from both idjits. 

"You think I'd get locked up in here if I didn't want to be? If there wasn't a reason for it?" Yondu asks, feeling Tullk's doubtful eyes on the side. He'll kick the asshole later. "Get back to the ship and wait for orders. We'll be back in a few days."

This time the "yes, cap'ns" are much more enthusiastic, as the men get up and thump their chests in salutes. Quill yells after them, something about taking pictures for posterity and Yondu just scowls at the table until the guards come back in and escort them back to the main area. 

This might be problematic.  

* * *

Yondu lies awake that night, thinking about their visitors. If idiots like Halfnut and Oblo think what he's doing is crazy and makes no sense, maybe he has gone overboard this time. On the other hand, his crew thinks keeping Quill is a stupid and mad idea, and Yondu knows it's the best thing he's ever done. And he's a captain, he's allowed some crazy from time to time if he feels like it. Especially if it's to bring back his first mate. Yondu needs him, dammit. Without Kraglin, he going to have to promote someone and then train them up, which is going to take fucking forever since they're all idiots. And they'll still probably not be as good at obeying his orders as Kraglin is, or be as attentive to their captain's needs. Or as good in the sack. Frankly, Yondu doesn't even want to contemplate having anything even in the neighbourhood of nookie-nookie with most of the members of his crew. That Taserface for once, he shudders. 

His ship will keep, Yondu tells himself. He's left enough loyal crew, or at least not that many opportunistic low-lives, to ensure no idiot could mutiny and steal it from him. And he needs Kraglin to keep that status quo in the future. 

The boy mumbles something in his sleep and scoots closer to Yondu, who moves away, but pulls another blanket over the kid to keep him warm. Yondu indulges himself for a moment, safe in the knowledge no one is watching them in the cell, to pat Quill's head and goes back to his thoughts. They'll be fine. This place ain't no Kyln, if anything happens, between him and Tullk, they can keep the boy safe. 

Everything will be fine.  

* * *

And it mostly is. Their third day is so uneventful it could be easily called boring. Yondu would pass his time trying to jog Kraglin's memory, maybe pull him into some quick nookie-nookie, but the damn bastard ain't there. So instead he very deliberately spends his day with Quill, listening to the brat's babble and sparring with him, making sure everyone in the prison knows the boy is under his protection. The place might not be Kyln, but it's still filled with the kind of scum who'd consider anyone weaker than them fair game, even if they're barely half-grown, and Quill is smaller and skinnier than basically every living being in the universe. Nothing is going to happen, Yondu tells himself for the hundredth time as he throws the boy over his hip, but some extra insurance never hurt anybody. Besides the kid has been grinning up at Yondu ever since he sat down next to him at breakfast and asked what he wanted to do, and Yondu can at least admit to himself that it makes what's left of his heart melt a little. Now, all he has to do is knock some sense back into Kraglin, get out of the fucking prison and everything will be perfect.  

* * *

Kraglin shivers a little as Ashtut places a glass of Xandarian whiskey in front of him and sits down on the opposite chair. He wraps his jacket tighter and smiles at his friend. 

"So how's the Astor-Beta Peace Force treating you, Kraglin?" Ashtut asks, gulping down half of his drink in one swig. 

"Well enough," Kraglin replies. It appears he's being stalked by a Ravager they currently have locked up in their prison, a man that for some unknown reasons ticks every box in Kraglin's "hot" column, but the Corps are alright. 

"That didn't sound very convincing," the other man laughs. "What's up?"

Kraglin just shrugs and switches the conversation to another topic. Ashtut doesn't seem to mind and by the fifth refill of his drink, Kraglin doubts he even remembers he asked the question. He also doesn't think the Corpsman is going to recall all that much from this night the next day, so he feels safe enough to say what, or rather who, has been on his mind the last few days. Ashtut listens to all of it, or at least he nods and hums in all the right moments. 

"I don't know what he wants from me," Kraglin confesses. "I don't know what I want from him either."

"Whatever it is, don't do it," Ashtut says. "I know most of the other guards fuck prisoners, but it's never a good idea. Never, Kraglin. Because that's either going to be rape, which I sure as hell hope you don't want to do, or you're going to have to give them something in return, and that means breaking the regs something major."

"I know."

"So don't even think about it. Kick the jackass out of your head."

Kraglin nods and tops up Ashtut's drink. It's a good advice. Very good. Simple, easy to follow and perfectly reasonable. Problem is, Kraglin rather doubts following it will be the same.  

* * *

Ashtut wants to drive him back to the prison, but Kraglin has a very strict personal rule of not dying in a fiery crash, so he refuses and puts his friend's stupid drunken ass in a cab. He gets one of his own after that and stumbles back into the prison. Some of the guards on duty make jokes and slap his back a little, but no one seems to care he's drunk. Good thing too, because he still needs that job. It takes him a while to open the door to his room, but that's less due to his drunkenness and more because he has no idea where his keys are and has to pick his lock. He collapses onto the bed and he wants to listen to Ashtut's advice, he really does, but as soon as he closes his eyes, he dreams of blue skin and red eyes. 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Peter gets more attention than Yondu likes, Yondu deals with it and Kraglin ends up helping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first chapter in which someone wants to sleep with Peter (they don't!) and Yondu deals with rather violently

After the confrontation on the first day Yondu, Quill and Tullk get mostly ignored by the rest of the prison's population as everyone tries to place them in their hierarchy. By the fourth day, they must reach some kind of decision, because as Yondu finishes his morning meal, a purple-skinned man sits down across from him. "Hey."

Yondu ignores him. 

"I'm Parth."

He couldn't care less. In fact, on the scale of importance, the man's name ranks somewhere between the real name of Quill's music thingy and Orloni mating habits. However, the idiot is obviously determined to talk to him and it seems lack of response is not enough of a deterrent. Yondu is just about to get up and walk away when the fucker says something more interesting. 

"And you're Yondu Udonta. What's the captain of one of the Ravager factions doing on a crappy hole like Astor-Beta?"

Yondu is at the same time satisfied and annoyed that he got recognised. It's always nice to know your reputation reaches even the ass end of the universe like Astor-Beta, but if the Corpsmen find out exactly who he is, they might decide he belongs in a more secure place than the little lockup they've got him in now. 

"What's it to ya?" he snarls in response, eyes narrowing.

The man raises his arms placatingly. "I just wanted you to know that I know who you is, sir, is all. I ain't gonna tell anyone."

"You better not," Yondu growls and Purple smiles nervously. "That's it?"

"If there's ever anything you need, just let me know," he says, smile turning slimy. Reminds Yondu of the way the Collector looks every time he talks about something he wants. Makes him want to hit Purple something major. 

"Just like that, huh?" Pretty fucking unlikely.  

"Well... If you finds me useful, sir, maybe I take your little toy for a spin?"

"No," Yondu replies on reflex, having no idea what the fuck is the guy talking about. He doesn't have any of his shines with him. He doesn't really have anything with him that wasn't prison-issued and none of that shit is worth trading anything for.

"Please? I ain't like others here, I ain't going to damage him nothing."

Him? What the fuck? What kind of fucked up crap do they think Yondu was doing? He grabs Purple's shirt and drags him forward until his nose almost touches Yondu's. "Ya ain't gettin' nothin' from me, dipshit. And ya ever talk to me or mine again I'm gonna rip out your dick, shove it down your throat, then gut you and do it all over again. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," the man whimpers a response and backs away so quickly when Yondu lets him go, he falls off the bench he's sitting on. He scrambles up and runs away, not looking behind even once.  

* * *

Kraglin is standing in one of the corridors, looking down onto the main area. He scans the scattered groups of prisoners, making sure none of them is going to do anything stupid, like starting a fight. For some reason, he doesn't fully understand - and, man, isn't this getting old already - he's apparently very good at guessing if someone's going to be trouble or act aggressively. He would have guessed it's a learned survival mechanism form when he lived on the street, but then he would have remembered having it, because it should have shown up while he was actually living on the streets.

He sighs, letting his head drop a little and closing his eyes. Maybe he should go back to that free doctor. He hasn't really been getting any headaches or anything, but something is off. Or maybe he just has to find out how he knows Udonta and the rest, since all of those feelings start off with them. 

"Fuck," he curses and opens his eyes. Then he sees what is happening below him and repeats himself. "Fuck."

A bunch of prisoners are circling a red-headed kid. Udonta's boy. None look they're going to start a fight, not that it would have been much of a fight against a skinny kid. But it can't be good either, so Kraglin pushes away from the railing and hurries downstairs. 

* * *

Yondu sits at one of the tables in the main area, tapping his fingers against the metal surface. It's been four days and Kraglin doesn't seem to be any closer to getting his memory back. He might have to do something definitive to get the ball rolling. Like fuck him. He grins at the thought. No hardship there. Although, maybe he should start smaller, just in case. It's not like he can brig the idiot, if he does something Yondu doesn't like. A kiss? Yondu grimaces a bit. Well, he might just as well, the arrow is locked up anyway and although he can summon it if he needs to - it's not in a yaka box, Yondu can sense it in a distance - he's pretty sure he can take Kraglin down without it. Unless the boy has been majorly faking it during every spar in the last decade and if he has, Yondu's going to put him on infinite cleaning duty when they get back to the ship. With Quill.

He looks up to scan the room for the boy, just to make sure he isn't causing trouble. He isn't, but he's sitting in a middle of a group of prisoners, one of whom is leaning much too close for comfort.  Yondu scowls and gets up, marching over to the gathering. "What's going on here then?"

Quill meets his eyes and smiles, which makes Yondu's heart warm a little. It's an increasingly rare occurrence these days for Quill to react that way to him, usually, he just says something snarky or frowns. Or both. Yondu would probably take it more personally if every book about raising children he has accidentally on purpose picked up hasn't warned him of the exact same thing. 

"They're saying they wanna play with me, Yondu," the boy says cheerfully.

Sure they do. And Yondu's the fucking Nova Prime. "Are they now," he drawls, putting himself between his boy and the predators surrounding him. "Too bad yer busy, ain't it, son?"

"I'm not-" Peter starts and shuts up when Yondu pinches him. 

"Sorry, gentlemen," Yondu grins insincerely, spreading his arms. "Maybe another time." Over his dead body. 

"Come on now, Udonta," the guy who was talking to Quill before Yondu came closer says, taking a step forward. "Why don't you let us play with your cute little boy there?" 

Yondu blood runs cold when he realises exactly what the other man is saying. And what Purple asked him in the morning. Those sick fuckers. And what kind of place was this shitty planet if so many a-holes were interested in freaking kids? Quill didn't even look like an adult, like some species did from early adolescence, he still obviously hasn't grown into his limbs or needed to shave yet. Shit. 

"What do you say, Udonta? I'll make it worth your while."

Yondu draws his arm back, fist clenched, before he even registers the man's spoken again. But his punch gets blocked, before it can land.

"Alright, guys, that's enough," Kraglin orders, letting Yondu go. "Walk away."

Yondu's eyes don't waver from the bastard who wanted- Stars, he can't even think it. When the mans obeys Kraglin's command, Yondu follows.  

* * *

The prisoners grumble, but they leave as ordered. Kraglin stares after them and turns to ask Udonta what the hell was going on, when someone snickers by his elbow. "Wow, Krags, look at you, all commanding and shit."

It's Udonta's kid, Quill, if Kraglin remembers correctly. He's grinning up at Kraglin, his eyes warm, open and friendly, in a way Kraglin is starting to expect from the three Ravagers, even if he still hasn't gotten a good reason as to why. 

"Shut up," Kraglin snaps, smacking Quill's head. Or at least attempting to, the little brat is fast.

"Aww, come on, that was a compliment! This is just typical," the kid snorts. "Here I am with an olive branch on a silver platter, and you bite the hand that- Wait, I think I got that a bit wrong." He scrunches up his nose in a gesture that's already becoming familiar. And annoying. "Anyway, you shouldn't be mean to me, when I'm trying to be nice."

"I think you were trying to be- Wait, where's your captain?" Kraglin asks Quill, who's making that weird nose motion again and shrugs, mumbling something about kidnappers and jackasses. 

"The cap'n followed the yellow arsehole who was talking to our li'l Quill," Udonta's second crewmate informs Kraglin. "You should go check on him, laddie. He were headin' towards the showers," the Ravager - Dullg? Tullp? - says, jerking his chin towards the room. "He might be gettin' in some trouble."

"I'll come help too," Quill offers, taking a step forward, only to be pulled back by There-were-two-ls-in-his-name. "Tullk!"

Tullk, that was it. He got it almost right. Kraglin makes an uncertain step towards the bathroom and Tullk gives him a quick, supportive smile. He doesn't really know what the fuck is going on. Tullk just basically snitched on his boss to a guard and he's done it more like he was setting up a hookup, rather than betraying his captain's trust in front of another crewmate. You'd think a space pirate would know how to betray someone properly. 

The doors to the shower room are closed, which doesn't bode well for whatever is happening inside. The showers are one of the open-access areas, and, even in Kraglin's limited experience, it is very rarely a good thing when prisoners are alone anywhere outside of visual supervision. That's usually how someone got murdered. Kraglin pushes the door open and then slams them shut behind him as what is happening in the bathroom comes into clear view. Udonta whirls around, a wild snarl on his face, that disappears in an instant when he realizes who interrupted him.

"Get out, Krags. It's none of yer business."

Kraglin isn't so sure that's true because there is a body on the floor. It's kind of hard to say who it is, given that there is no face to recognise, but Kraglin is pretty sure he knows. Dagin isn't anywhere else and Udonta wouldn't have the time to fight with him and then kill someone else before Kraglin got there. 

"Kraglin. I'm serious," Udonta growls, but Kraglin ignores him, walking closer to the body. "Kraglin!"

"Is that Dagin?" Kraglin asks, bending down to look at the corpse.

"If that's the asshole who wanted to _rape_ ," the last word is spat out as Udonta kicks the body, sending some of the blood flying and making Kraglin jump of the way to avoid getting it on his uniform, "Quill, who's barely. A. Teenager," he kicks the body again and again with each word, "then yeah."

Alright then. Kraglin steps back, brain working overtime. He has to do something about this. He knows what he should do. He should order Udonta to lie down on the floor and sound the alarm to get other guards here. He most definitely should not just be standing there, watching the Centaurian manhandling the corpse he just made. 

"Give me one fo your knives, Krags," Udonta interrupts his thoughts.

"What?"

"Your knife. We need to get rid of the fucker."

We? There was no we. Kraglin shouldn't even be talking to Udonta, he should have left the minute he saw the body. He still can, he thinks. Whatever it is that Udonta makes him feel, and whatever the reason for it is, Kraglin has his duty and no part of it is helping prisoners kill each other and then hide the bodies. 

"Obfonteri!" Udonta snaps and Kraglin sees that a knife appears in his hand and gets passed over to the blue man, but it's like watching someone else, as he doesn't remember any of those actions getting approved by his brain. 

Udonta grunts out something that Kraglin supposes is meant to be a thank you and grabs one of the corpse's legs, dragging him to the toilets, lined up along one of the walls. When he puts the knife to the body's arm, Kraglin looks away. He's seen dead bodies before, but this is a little beyond him. 

"You alright there, Kraggles?" Udonta asks from behind him, his voice thankfully drowning out the sound of blade striking bone. 

"Just peachy" Kraglin replies and frowns. The fuck does that mean? "But, you know, I am still a guard, so I'll just stand here and pretend nothing is happening. Maybe I should go outside actually. Make sure no one comes in." He winces a little as he says it. Not really proper guard behaviour, that. 

"Just lock it, you have the codes," Udonta says, then curses. "This motherfucker. How is he so fat with the crap they serve here?"

Kraglin is pretty sure he replies something, but since the whole situation is making him really woozy, he just focuses on typing the code into the lock. He glances at Udonta, but looks away quickly when he notices all the blood pooling around him. "Umm... Anything else I can do to help?" he finally asks uncertainly. What is he doing? Ignoring the whole thing might be explainable, since the dick kind of had it coming with the whole Quill situation. But actively helping? That was way too much. 

"If ya don't wanna cut, then get rid of the blood," Udonta orders. 

Kraglin looks down at the floor and grimaces. That's a lot of blood, how is he supposed to clean it all up? Some of it has gone down the drain, but there are still copious amounts around. He blinks. Drain. Oh. At least Udonta knew how to pick a murder scene, he thinks walking over to the showers and turning them on one by one, allowing the water to flow freely and meet with the blood.  

* * *

"That's it then," Udonta says, flushing the toilet, getting rid of the last, torn bit of Dagin. 

"What now?" Kraglin asks, watching the leftover blood on the floor mix in with water and disappear down the drain. He switches the showers off and turns towards Udonta, just in time to see him lift his shirt, looking down at it in disgust.

"Fuck," Udonta mutters, moving the bloody fabric up to look at his skin. "Even the morons they have here are gonna notice that."

"The regulations say we have to keep a couple of spare, clean uniforms in all self-cleaning facilities," Kraglin offers, his eyes glued to where blood seeped through the shirt, staining Udonta's blue skin. He shifts on his feet, kind of grateful for the tight uniform, as he can feel his cock stirring. He should not be finding this as hot as he does. "I can go look for them."

He doesn't even get to take a step as Udonta is suddenly right in front of him, pushing him back until he hits the wall. Kraglin turns his head to the side, trying to avoid the heated look in the blue man's eyes. 

"Like what you see?" Udonta purrs into his ear. 

Kraglin really wants to say something in return, although he isn't exactly sure what, because he can't even hear his thoughts, with all the blood rushing to his head. Then he doesn't have to answer at all because Udonta's lips are on his, teeth nipping at his bottom lip. The nips turn into a hard bite that makes Kraglin open his mouth to complain. He doesn't get a chance as Udonta pushes his tongue inside and Kraglin can taste blood, a faint trace of the sludge the prisoners have been fed for the midday meal and something that must just be Udonta.

It is at that exact moment that his still slightly wounded head decides to attack him for the first time since he came to Astor-Beta. It's like every single pain receptor in his head goes off at the same time and Kraglin moans in pain. He expects Udonta to take it as encouragement, but the Centaurian pulls away. "What is it, Krags?"

His head is hurting so much he can barely see, but he manages to choke out something about patrols and almost runs out of the bathroom. The pain disappears before he even gets to the main area. The sting on his lips doesn't for the rest of the day. And because of that neither does Kraglin's erection. 


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Kraglin and Yondu have a quick moment to themselves and Kraglin goes out drinking again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long to publish this, but I'm in Japan right now on a trip so preparations for it have been a bit hectic. But the next chapter is almost done too so it will be up tomorrow!

  
Kraglin stands in his usual watching spot overlooking the main area and stares down at Udonta. He just doesn't understand the man. He killed a person with an ease of a seasoned killer, he chopped him into little bits and flashed him down the toilet without even a grimace, unless you count complaining about how fat the bastard was and how much work cutting him up was. Kraglin doesn't remember ever seeing so much blood or meeting anyone as cold as Udonta.

Only Udonta isn't cold. The smile he sent Kraglin when he turned on the showers to clean up the blood was- well, not warm, but full of some sort of emotion all the same. Now Kraglin can see him sitting at a table, seemingly completely focused on shoving food down his gullet, but his head is cocked to the side as he listens to his little crewmate's excited chatter. And Kraglin's talked to the kid, he's not that interesting at the best of times, definitely not this early in the morning. 

He must be saying something pretty funny though, because Udonta grins all of the sudden, focusing all of Kraglin's attention on his mouth. Damn, he can feel his face flushing. What the hell is wrong with him, getting excited like a kid about a few kisses? Sure, Udonta's hot and in the last two days have proved to seemingly know exactly what to do to have Kraglin hard and panting within seconds of any contact, but Kraglin should have more self-control than that. Maybe he just needs to get laid. He's got an evening off, he could just go out and get himself some hot, preferably blue, piece of ass. Yeah, that should do the trick.

Just as he finishes convincing himself of this, someone grabs the back of his jacket and pulls him back. Kraglin has a knife in his hand, ready to strike when his back hits the floor and his attacker grins down at him.

"My, my, how kinky, Kraggles," Udonta drawls, fingers brushing the edge of the knife. "But I think ya should buy me a drink first."

"Are you crazy?" Kraglin snaps back. "Attacking a guard is-"

The rest of the sentence gets swallowed as Udonta mashes their mouths together and pushes his tongue inside Kraglin's mouth. Kraglin expects him to take advantage of their position and put his thigh between Kraglin's legs - that's what he would have done - but instead, Udonta sits on top of him, and holy fuck that's so much better. Kraglin lets go of the knife to grab Udonta's hips and pull him closer to his cock, and the Centaurian chuckles into their kiss and lets him. Then just as the man's ass gets right where Kraglin wants, there is a noise in the distance and Udonta is gone. Kraglin sits up slowly to find himself in one of the cells and looking up at a prisoner standing in the doors. 

"Umm... Are you okay, officer?" the man asks, glancing behind him nervously, probably tracking Udonta.

"Yeah. I'm great," Kraglin replies, getting up. "Thanks."

He walks out of the room, cursing under his breath. He doesn't want anyone else. He wants Udonta and only Udonta. 

* * *

 That night, when he goes out drinking with Ashtut, he doesn’t ration his drink. He has only one aim for the day and that is to get so drunk he will forget everything all over again. And by everything, he means how good it feels to feel teeth on his lips and scarred, blue skin under his fingers.

At about fifth drink, Kraglin can see Ashtut has noticed something is off and is about to ask about it, the noisy fucker. Kraglin would tell him to shut up, but the whiskey seemed to have displaced the right words from his head, so he just glares. It doesn’t work.

“It’s still about that prisoner, isn’t it?”

Kraglin is kind of impressed. It takes some real skill to hit a perfect fucking trifecta of annoyance with just one question, but Ashtut manages beautifully. He asks questions just when Kraglin really doesn’t want to answer any, he picks a topic Kraglin came here to forget and he remembers the topic in the first place, even though his insides had to be 80% alcohol when Kraglin told him his problems a few days ago.

But he still answers, because he’s more than a little bit drunk, Udonta has been the only thing on his mind for what seems like forever and Ashtut is his friend. “Yeah. See, things… changed a little since last time.”

Ashtut pours him another drink and leans in, his eyes serious, if a little unfocused. “I hope “changed” isn’t some sort of weird euphemism for you fucking one of your inmates.”

“It isn’t,” Kraglin assures him. And he’s technically not even lying since he hasn’t had sex with Udonta. Yet. “But it seems to be going that way.”

“Bad idea, Kraglin.”

“I know,” Kraglin groans. “He’s just so freaking hard to resist, Ashtut, you have no idea. He pops up everywhere I am, and he smiles in that way he has, and he keeps pulling me into all those dark nooks to make out with me, and-“

“Doesn’t matter,” Ashtut interrupts. “You can’t- Well, I guess, technically you can, but you really shouldn’t sleep with a prisoner. Especially considering you’ve barely been working there a week.”

“But he’s-“

“Doesn’t matter,” the Corpsman repeats. “Even if he seems like he’d be interested in sleeping with you, you can’t. And let’s be honest, Kraglin, you really think the guy is stalking you without an agenda in mind?"

Kraglin would be offended if the thought hasn't crossed his mind a few times. He's pretty sure Udonta is honest in his interest in him, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want something, and Kraglin doesn't really understand where that interest came from in the first place. He's not the ugliest guy in the universe, but he's hardly worth following to prison, which Udonta unmistakably did. He has been suspecting that Udonta and the others knew him in the 17 years he forgot, but it's been a week and none of them has said anything and they've been pretty chatty about everything else. On the other hand, Udonta hasn't really asked him for anything either, unless you count the Body Incident, and even then it was more like he just assumed Kraglin was going to help than actually asking for it. "He might be," he says defensively and without all that much conviction. 

"Really? If you went back right now and told him that you're getting transfered the next day and won't be able to do anything for him, you think he'd still be interested?"

To be honest, he doesn't know. Udonta wants something from him, even if it's not a thing a regular prisoner would want from a guard - the only remotely prisoner-like interest Udonta seems to have is the safety of his friends and he has already proved he can take care of them by himself. But Kraglin isn't sure he would just back off if Krgalin suddenly became unavailable. He'd bet more on Udonta following again. He seems like the type to stalk whatever he wanted until it gave up or died. He's not convinced that's any better, but it's something. 

"Kraglin," Ashtut says tonelessly, looking at him pointedly. Looks like Kraglin's going to have to reply to this one. Damn. He really doesn't want to, because then if something happens with Udonta, he'll feel like he's betraying Ashtut's trust. And with Udonta being as persistent as he is, things happening are more than likely. "Kraglin."

But Ashtut's right, damn him. 

"I know," Kraglin sighs. "I know. I'll stay away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate every single kudos and comment you guys leave so please share some love!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Peter makes a friend, Kraglin worries about it and makes a whole new decision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's late, Japan has denied me its internet. Anyway, Merry Christmas everyone and I hope to have the next chapter posted by New Years :)
> 
> Fair warning, again Peter gets some attention from creeps and Kraglin has some weird thoughts on the subject (that I explain in end notes too).

Peter is sitting by one of the many tables in the main area and reading a book on a tablet he got from Kraglin just a day before. He's gotten quite good at getting people to give him stuff, it was all about the timing of the request. With Kraglin, you have to ask right after he comes out of a meeting with Yondu and still has that slightly dopey look on his face - what Youndu does to him that makes Kraglin stupid for about 5 minutes after, every time, Peter has no idea, but he doesn't really care either - and he'll give you anything. Like a tablet, an item technically forbidden to prisoners. Sure, it's a piece of crap, with no connection to the net or any movies, but Krags put a few good books on it for Peter and even an old shooting game. 

"What's that you got there?" someone asks above him, making Peter look up. 

And gulp, because the man speaking is wearing a guard uniform, and it's not Kraglin. He's smiling, but that doesn't mean shit - the Ravagers are a very cheerful bunch, but they'll still stab you before saying hello. 

Peter looks around, hoping Tullk or Yondu are somewhere nearby to save his ass. They aren't. He glances up at the guard again and tries to look brave. "It's nothin'. Just a bit of junk."

"Where'd you get it from?"

Yeah, like he's gonna tell him. Kraglin might not remember anything, but he's crew and you don't snitch on your crew. Unless it's to your captain. "Just found it."

The man laughs. "You're not in trouble, kid, at least not with me. You're young, deserve to have some fun." He gives Peter a grin and a wink, leaning in a little to look at the screen of the tablet. "Reading, huh? No games on the thing?"

Peter looks him up and down slowly. Yondu gave him a lecture on reading body language when Peter was twelve, saying that Ravagers, no matter how young, couldn't be "so gullible they'd but meat from a Contraxian street vendor". Peter doesn't remember all of what Yondu said, he kind of stopped listening when tentacles were mentioned - because, ew - but what did remain in his brain tells him the guard's honest in his interest in Peter. His posture is open, his head is tilted in Peter's direction and his smile shows in his eyes too. So Peter relaxes a little and smiles back at the man. "There's one, but I'm supposed to read two chapters before playing."

"How come?"

Because of stupid Yondu and his stupid rules, Peter thinks, but doesn't say - no insulting your captain, another Ravager rule, even though he doesn't usually obey that one. "I just do. And the game ain't that great either."

The man smiles wider and their conversation turns to tablet games and their newest updates. The guard -Harlin, he says- knows his stuff, Peter hasn't had that much fun for a while. It only gets better when he gets promised a new game card for the tablet. He's about to get up and follow the man to pick it up, when he sees a familiar figure appraching and smiles at him. 

* * *

Kraglin has a late shift the day after his drinking with Ashtut so he can sleep off his hangover in peace. And go through the last night's conversation again to reach a decision. However, after mulling over all of it, the conclusion is still the same - Ashtut is right and Kraglin can't let this thing with Udonta continue. Even if sleeping with him would not be rape - in the last few days Udonta has made it more than clear that he wants Kraglin, mostly by pulling him into any semi-hidden nook and making out with him - nothing good can come of it anyway. 

Kraglin groans. He knows all of this logically, but his body really fucking disagrees with that sentiment, insisting that doing Udonta will, in fact, be closer to mind-blowingly amazing than just good. And it's being pretty damn convincing.

Kraglin groans again and goes to splash some water on his face. He needs to be smart about this. He wants to stay with the Corps, which means he has to follow their rules. And, sure, other guards sleep with prisoners all the time and none of them has been kicked out, but then he doesn't think they have trouble disagreeing with or disobeying those prisoners, which Kraglin most certainly does (exhibit A: helping Udonta get rid of a fucking body). So, unlike them, Kraglin needs to keep away. This yearning he has for Udonta just has to go. 

He gets dressed, repeating that like a mantra, and sets himself a goal for the day. It's not that difficult, just a small step in the right direction. For today, he'll stay away from Udonta, and hopefully, the distance will make his cock smarter rather than fonder. 

The plan is good. Solid, easy to follow, very hard to screw up. And yet, somehow, it all falls apart almost as soon as Kraglin starts his shift and goes on his usual initial walkthrough. He's passing over the main area, looking down at the people below, just to make sure none of them is about to start something and he doesn't have to worry about leaving the area. But then he sees one of his fellow guards, Harlin, leaning on a table, talking to Udonta's boy, and that just sets off alarms all over. So Kraglin stops and stares. Quill doesn't look like he's uncomfortable, or even uninterested in the conversation he's having - an expression that Kraglin can picture with a surprising ease - but the very fact that he is talking to Harlin at all makes Kraglin worry. He doesn't really know the other man, after all, he's barely been working in the prison a week, but he's heard enough. Because Harlin has something that can, generously, be called a reputation. And he did not gain it by being nice to young, scrawny prisoners and looking out for them. 

Kraglin is halfway down the stairs before he realises he has no idea what to say. He can't really just tell Harlin to fuck off and leave the kid alone, he's not doing anything that would require another guard's intervention. He's just talking with a prisoner and the boy is smiling up at him, obviously not being bothered. But Kraglin still walks all the way to them to interrupt.

Quill notices him first and flashes him a smile, a very familiar looking quick show of teeth that on the kid's face just looks friendly, rather than sinful and inviting, the way Udonta makes it look. Thank fuck, because Kraglin doesn't think he could deal with that. "Hey, Kraglin."

"Hey, kid," Kraglin replies and nods at Harlin as the man turns to look at him. "What are you doing here?" Alone, without someone to protect you, is what he means, but it doesn't seem like the kid notices. However, thankfully, neither does Harlin. 

"I was just reading," Quill replies, waving his tablet. Damn. He kinda forgot he gave the kid that, he wasn't precisely in the thinking state of mind at the time, having just finished making out with the boy's blue captain. This could mean trouble if Harlin decides to be a dick - prisoners aren't supposed to have personal electronics of any kind, even if they are not connected to a network. The tablet Kraglin gave the kid is old and almost empty except for some books and one or two games, but Kraglin could still be fired over it. He starts to search his head for a good excuse when the kid continues on. "And Harlin said he can get a few extra games!"

Well, isn't this interesting. Harlin, quite possibly the nastiest guard they have, is offering to do a favour for the kid. The heart just melts. "Did he? Ain't that nice of him." He sends the other guard smile he hopes is more conspirational than suspicious. "But you shouldn't be playing with that out in the open, kid. Get."

Quill frowns at him, but does as he's told without much complaining. As soon as the kid is out of earshot, he turns to Harlin. "What are you doing?"

"I just noticed a prisoner with an electronic device and came to intervene." Harlin shrugs. "But he's just a kid, no harm in letting him play with it a bit."

It all sounds believable, but Kraglin knows Harlin isn't that nice a person and Quill isn't small enough to elicit any protective instincts through sheer cuteness. And even if both were true, Harlin did more than just let Quill's illegal tablet slide, he offered to provide him with more things - that wasn't just looking the other way while others broke the rules, it was actively smashing them to pieces.

Harlin starts chatting to him about the walkthroughs and patrols, prisoners that have been given a warning by the previous shift and the ones that have been sent to isolation. Kraglin tries to focus on it and ignore the part of his brain that is jumping up and down waving its arms and screaming "danger", but it doesn't really work. 

* * *

At the end of the shift, Kraglin is still thinking about Quill and Harlin. No matter what the guy wants with the kid, it cannot be good. He might have only met the man a week ago, but that was more than enough time to realise Harlin was just a bully. A truly fucked up bully, the type that took what he wanted and if you stood in his way, even by accident, he threatened or punched you out of it. Kraglin has had more experience with the type than anyone's ever needed, he's always been rather on a scrawny side and where he grew up that equalled having a huge sign above your head reading "target" and flashing in neon lights. 

He opens the collar of his jacket and sighs.

"Tough day, Obfonteri?" someone asks next to him.

It's Harlin, Kraglin discovers when he turns to face him. The Astorian is smiling at him, somewhat condescendingly in Kraglin's opinion. 

"More long than tough," he replies. He looks Harlin up and down, and puts a hand on his arm to stop him from continuing to the guards' quarters and pull him into a side corridor. "I need to talk to you."

"About what?" Harlin asks, looking baffled. 

"Quill," Kraglin says. "Pink-skinned, ginger and very young," he adds, when Harlin just looks at him blankly. 

"Right, I know which one. Udonta's toy."

Kraglin frowns at the description, it sounds a little too much like what Dagin has been saying for his comfort. Before Udonta murdered him, anyway. "Yeah."

"What about him?"

Now, how to phrase "what the fuck do you want with a little kid, you suspicious bastard?" so that it doesn't sound quite so insulting in case Harlin has a very innocent reason for doing so. Unlikely as it may be. 

"You know what," Harlin says, saving Kraglin the need to make something up, "I don't care. You can't have all of them, Obfonteri, you gotta share."

Huh? All of what? Doesn't really matter, Kraglin's not sharing anything with anyone, especially bastards like Harlin, but still. Huh?

"You obviously have something going on with that blue boss of theirs," Harlin continues. "So if you want a turn with the kid too, you're gonna have to get in line."

If this wasn't so fucking wrong, Kraglin thinks, he would have said something like "I just knew it". What the hell is it with this place? He can kind of understand why the prisoners would be going after Quill - when you have very little control over your life, you crave power over others even more than normal, and scrawny kids are easier to take advantage of and control, both physically and mentally, than someone who is grown up or actually has the strength to fight back. And sometimes, when you're in a bad situation, you think or do things that would have made you sick any other time. Kraglin can relate to that - the first time he found himself on the streets he was seven and a pretty nice kid, but after two weeks of near starvation he had no qualms about smashing another child's head into the wall to get the two units the kid managed to beg from strangers that day - and if all they wanted was rough the kid up a little, he wouldn't be that bothered. Kids in environments like Quill's, surrounded by criminals and jackasses, get hit from time to time, that's just life. But wanting to screw someone who so obviously isn't grown up enough to consent or even know what was happening, isn't something Kraglin is going to just let happen. Especially when he knows the kid in question and doesn't dislike him. That much. 

But even considering all of this, how people's primal natures sometimes just take over, it doesn't make sense that Harlin would do the same. He's a fucking Corpsman. He has all the power he could want, he's responsible for dozens of prisoners every day, and he's pretty senior as a guard too. He doesn't need to search out the weakest possible being around, he can have a normal freaking relationship. Or if he can't pretend he's not a complete asshole long enough to lure some poor unsuspecting adult into his bed, he can always get a hooker. But instead, he's lurking around a little kid. Which means, rather than being a little fucked up, poor son of a bitch getting screwed by the universe, Harlin is just a sick, twisted motherfucker. These fucking Corps really do just accept fucking anyone, don't they?

Kraglin comes back to reality to see Harlin walk away from him. He doesn't bother going after him or calling him back, the few words they've exchange were already too much for Kraglin's liking. But he has to do something,  Harlin made it very clear he's not going to leave Quill alone and from what Kraglin saw of their interaction the kid is likely to trust him even if he really, really shouldn't. He needs to tell Udonta, he decides. That blue bastard has to know that it isn't just other prisoners that want his kid and that it might turn serious and dangerous, very quickly. 

The doors to the cell are open, it's still almost an hour till lights out. Kraglin stands at the entrance and hesitates. Udonta is inside. So is the kid. The brat is lying on his mat, wrapped up in so many blankets Kraglin can only see a mess of ginger curls sticking out among the grey. He looks peaceful and innocent, but it's the way Udonta looks at him that makes Kraglin's breath catch. 

He's sitting next to the kid, his blue hand looking huge when placed on the teenager's head. He's moving his fingers slowly, barely making the ginger strands stir, and although he isn't smiling, he's so obviously content. Kraglin isn't exactly sure what the emotion he can see in Udonta's eyes is, but he likes it. He thinks he would have liked it more if it was directed at him, but he's glad Udonta shows it in some way. 

Udonta's voice brings Kraglin out of his head. He's whistling something, a quick melody that Kraglin recognizes every note of, without knowing it at all. 

"What is that?" he asks and wishes he bit his tongue because Udonta snatches his hand away from the kid and his eyes turn hard as usual.

"What?" he snarls.

"The song," Kraglin replies, tone light, to put the other man at ease. "What is it?"

"One of the damn Terran songs," Udonta says finally, after staring at Kraglin for a long time. "Stars know what the name is. I can't help remembering them, but I'd be damned if I ask the kid for more. He'll think I'm interested and never stop playing the fucking stuff. I already have oogas coming out of my chakas."

Whatever that means. "It seemed familiar," Kraglin confesses.

"It would," Udonta mutters under his breath and gets up, dragging Kraglin out of the room. "What do you want, Krags?"

"I need to tell you something," he says. "About the boy."

"Quill?" Udonta frowns, looking over his shoulder at the sleeping kid. "What about him?"

"I saw him-" Kraglin starts and then cuts himself off. He can't tell him, he realises. Udonta has already proven he has no qualms about killing inside of jail to protect the boy and a death of a guard would be impossible to overlook. They'd find out it was Udonta and they'd send him off to either a higher security prison or a hard labour facility and that only if they just didn't shoot him outright. 

"What?" Udonta asks, when he doesn't continue. 

He has to take care of it himself, Kraglin thinks. He's still not sure why he wants to protect Udonta and his boy so much, even over the people he should be loyal too, and it's definitely not because he's been making out with Udonta with an alarming regularity, because he helped him hide a fucking body before they ever kissed. He would have said it was because he knew them better than anyone else, but he really didn't - surely Udonta would have told him by now if they knew each other in the past. It doesn't matter. He doesn't have to understand the reason for everything he feels to know what he has or wants to do, and that is to keep Udonta and his crewmates alive and well for as long as possible. 

Kraglin looks down at Udonta, who's scowling at him, obviously very close to running out of patience. thing is, Kraglin has no idea what to make up about Quill that would have been important enough, so he just bends down and presses his mouth against Udonta's. The Centaurian makes a surprised sound at the back of his throat, but opens his mouth, letting the kiss deepen. He backs Udonta into the wall and puts his hands on his hips, slipping his fingers underneath the trouser band to lay them on Udonta's skin. The other man replies in kind, putting his hands under Kraglin's shirt, digging his fingernails in. It makes Kraglin just press himself closer, teeth closing on Udonta's bottom lip. He doesn't sink them in as the Centaurian has done the first time they kissed, he's pretty sure that would not go down well, so he just nips around, moving on to the man's neck. Udonta fists his hand in his hair, pulling them, which Kraglin takes as an encouragement as he licks his way to the man's collarbone. He lets one of his hands move farther beneath the fabric of the prison uniform, but he only gets to graze the crease between Udonta's torso and upper thigh before the blue man grabs his hands and jerks away. 

"What?" Kraglin whines, trying to move in closer and go back to nuzzling his neck. 

"None of that, boy. Not with the kid here."

Kid? What- Oh. Kraglin glances to the side, but Quill hasn't even stirred. "He's still sleeping," he says extracting his wrist from Udonta's grasp and putting it back on the man's hip. 

"I don't care," Udonta's voice turns more commanding, which really isn't helpful in cooling Kraglin down. "We'll finish it later, Kraggles," he adds in a more playful tone as he pushes him out of the cell, giving him a quick nip as a farewell.

Kraglin walks, or rather limps, to the showers to drown himself in some cold water. Damn Quill. He doesn't care if the kid was unconscious, he thinks when a more rational part of his brain points it out, he's still sure the brat is to blame. And just when Kraglin has decided to protect him too. That cockblocking little monster. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so about Kraglin thoughts on human nature here - they do not coincide with mine, just to make it perfectly clear. no matter what your situation is and what is happening to you, it is never okay to hurt kids.  
> however, having grown up on the streets Kraglin would probably not have the same opinion (especially as it seems to me the galaxy has rather more flexible rules of what constitutes unforgivable behaviour, although that might be because the movies are mostly from a criminal point of view (or almost criminal)). I feel like he would let most bad things just happen around him, unless they threatened him or his (I say most, because he grows a very clear line at rape, especially that of a kid, here) and that his life experiences would give him a pretty good insight into what desperate people do in desperate situations.  
> sorry if I don't make it that clear in the story, it just kind of wrote itself and it fit for me, but I wanted to explain so I don't trigger anyone :) Although I'm not too sure if this explanation makes much sense, it's really late....
> 
> Please comment and leave kudos on your way out, because comments are love and love makes me stop stress eating, which is good for me :D


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